


wallpaper

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Daddy Kink, Fisting, M/M, safeword, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27875897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Chanyeol takes it too far and Baekhyun ends up using the safeword.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Kudos: 44





	wallpaper

**Author's Note:**

> warning: minor!d/s relationship, daddy!kink, fisting
> 
> This was a deleted word by merridews on LJ. I take no credit for this.

Baekhyun swallows thickly as he sits on the bed, hugging his legs. He’s stripped of all clothing, except for a leather collar secured snugly around the neck. Closing his eyes, he waits. There’s a pounding in his head and adrenaline courses through his body. The anxiety builds and bile rises at the base of his throat. He hears the door open, but the sound only makes him press his eyelids together harder as if hiding from his own reality.  
  
“Baekhyun-ah.”  
  
Low and deep, Baekhyun swallows again and feels fingertips brushing against his front fringe.  
  
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun exhales when he feels kisses being planted along his forehead and the side of his face. He opens his eyes slowly and sees Chanyeol’s bashful expression. He had just got back from work. The jacket was taken off and hangs on the doorknob, but the crinkled dress shirt and tie still cling to his body. His hair lacks the slick luster it had in the morning, but is still combed smooth nevertheless. Baekhyun licks his lips involuntarily.  
  
“Did you want to play, Baek?” Chanyeol asks.  
  
Baekhyun nods vigorously, mouth incapable of speaking. His face is flushing red much to Chanyeol’s amusement.  
  
“I thought we could try something new today,” Chanyeol says nonchalantly, undoing his tie and opening the drawer. He pulls out a bottle of lube.  
  
“What?” Baekhyun asks, raising an eyebrow. He breaks character for a split second, tone edgy. He holds his breath hoping Chanyeol didn’t catch it.  
  
Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun and blinks twice. He notices, but doesn’t mention it. Instead, he asks, “Do you trust me, Baek?”  
  
“I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” Baekhyun says in a soft, whispering tone.  
  
Chanyeol nods.  
  
This is all new to them. It was only a couple months ago that Baekhyun suggested they get more adventurous in the bedroom. And after some vibrators and handcuffs, they found a common ground on BDSM. Baekhyun liked being dominated and Chanyeol liked coming home to see his baby with a vibrator already sticking in his ass.  
  
But just because Baekhyun likes it doesn’t get rid of the initial awkwardness. It’s hard to start. Hard to bitch about Chanyeol leaving his clothes everywhere and then transform into this kinky persona willing to get on all fours in the living room with a cockring, begging for release.  
  
“Okay, lay back and spread your legs.”  
  
Baekhyun pouts, because he really wants to know what Chanyeol has in mind for today. But he complies. Baekhyun shifts so that he’s splayed across the sheets and looking anywhere except at Chanyeol. It’s always embarrassing. To submit yourself. But Baekhyun feels heat pooling in his stomach and energy surging through his veins. He knows he likes this and he trusts Chanyeol. He trusts him a lot.  
  
Chanyeol coats his fingers with lubricant and leans down, pulling apart Baekhyun’s legs even farther and spreading him wider. Baekhyun bites his bottom lip but doesn’t say a word as he watches Chanyeol press lightly at his center. Not inward. Chanyeol just circles around it, fingertips feathering the rosey skin. Baekhyun’s breath hitches.  
  
“Chanyeol, please—,” Baekhyun moans pushing his body down towards Chanyeol’s finger but to no avail.  
  
“What did I say about begging,” Chanyeol chides in mock-gentility before slapping Baekhyun on the thigh.  
  
Baekhyun yelps and bites on his tongue. He needs it so much, but Chanyeol is refusing. Instead, the man smiles, sadistic amusement glinting in his eyes.  
  
Finally, finally, Chanyeol pushes inward. Slowly.  
  
Baekhyun can feel everything; he can feel the finger invading, touching the clamped walls. He feels Chanyeol pressing kisses along his face: hot and breathy. It’s so tight and Baekhyun’s eyes are rolling back with pleasure. He loves this. He craves it. The way Chanyeol just sinks into him, making room for himself where no one else belongs.  
  
“D-Daddy.” It’s embarrassing, the words barely tumbling out of his mouth. He sees Chanyeol smile that goofy smile, almost breaking character. The lofty expression makes Baekhyun want to sock him in the face. But he doesn’t. He stays exactly where he is, arms around Chanyeol’s neck like a good boy because Chanyeol’s so close to his prostate. So goddamn close, Baekhyun latches his mouth on Chanyeol’s shoulder. His teeth squeeze down and he muffles his scream.  
  
Chanyeol stops and Baekhyun wants to cry.  
  
“Off my shoulder, Baek. I want to hear you.”  
  
Baekhyun fucking hates Chanyeol, but does as he says. Before the finger goes back in, Chanyeol loops his arm underneath Baekhyun’s knee, propelling him up and pushing back. He barely registers the second finger going in until Chanyeol’s scissoring him. Baekhyun moans as the fingertips brush his prostate.  
  
“D-Daddy, please.” He needs it so much, he almost sobs. Almost.  
  
A third finger presses in, and Baekhyun clenches his muscles around it. His breathing is harder—it always happens with the third finger—but Chanyeol peppers kisses along his face. He slackens under the assault, smiling as Chanyeol pecks his temple and whispers: _My baby is so beautiful like this._  
  
He twists the fingers, hooking them deep inside of Baekhyun. Baekhyun makes a sound: a cross between a choked gasp and a cry.  
  
“Baby,” Chanyeol repeats, his other hand tracing his own name on the gold plate of Baekhyun’s collar. “Tell me what you want.”  
  
“To come,” Baekhyun arches his body up and then pushes himself down onto Chanyeol’s fingers. He grinds his hips harder against the hand, making frustrated keening noises. With eyes blown up wide, he parts his cherry red lips and murmurs Chanyeol’s name.  
  
“Relax, baby.”  
  
Almost on command, the passage relaxes and Chanyeol manages a fourth finger without a wince from Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s breathing gets shaky as Chanyeol rocks all of them at once, but he steadies himself. They did four fingers a week ago, but it was painful and Baekhyun had trouble holding back tears until Chanyeol quickly nailed his prostate.  
  
But today, everything feels right. Baekhyun feels so full and loved, flushed against Chanyeol’s fingers and pushing himself onto them to get more. His arms unlock and find purchase in the sheets, fisting the white cotton in his hands as the pleasure builds like a wave. His eyelids are half-lidded, struggling to stay open but at the same time, he really wants to see Chanyeol’s face. He wants to know Chanyeol is doing this to him and no one else. His best friend. His boyfriend. His Daddy.  
  
He’s so close to release, so close. His dick is hard and pressed against his stomach. He reaches down to grab it, but Chanyeol slaps his hand away.  
  
“No touching yourself.”  
  
Baekhyun whines. He feels all sensitive and tingly. His body begs for release. His nerves burn every time Chanyeol’s shirt unintentionally rubs against his cock. Toes curling, Baekhyun lets out another moan and clenches his ass around Chanyeol’s fingers.  
  
Then, Chanyeol pulls out and the euphoria is gone. Baekhyun whines, earning a stern “Quiet” from the latter. Chanyeol grabs his discarded tie and wraps it around Baekhyun’s wrists, binding them together. Baekhyun holds still, because he wants to show he’s a good boy. But Chanyeol doesn’t notice the effort, immediately grabbing the lubricant and covering his entire hand. It’s messy and dripping along his forearm and onto the bed sheets.  
  
The entire display is odd, Baekhyun thinks. Chanyeol really doesn’t need that much lube. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on the situation because Chanyeol’s pushing his back onto the bed and thrusting four fingers in at the same time.  
  
Baekhyun whimpers as the pleasure crashes through him. His senses are on a high, causing him to mumble a string of “I love you”s and “please Daddy”s until he can’t articulate any other thoughts.  
  
Chanyeol’s saying something to him, and he looks serious but Baekhyun can’t register the words. His hearing is muffled, senses focusing more on the feel of Chanyeol’s fingers rocking into his body. So long and deep. He just nods his head rapidly, not even sure what he’s agreeing to.  
  
Pulling out again, Chanyeol makes a duck shape with his hand before going back to it. It starts out small, and Baekhyun can’t even tell there’s a thumb in there. But then Chanyeol keeps easing his way in and he’s being stretched wider and wider.  
  
By the time the second knuckles get past through, Baekhyun’s body is spasming, trying to adjust to the intrusion.  
  
“Daddy, what are you doing?” Baekhyun asks worriedly as the stretching continues. His lower half feels like it’s about to split the farther Chanyeol goes.  
  
“I told you, I’m going to fist you,” Chanyeol breathes.  
  
Baekhyun’s eyes grow wide and his entire body shakes with realization. “No, Daddy, no, I can’t do it, no it’s hurting.”  
  
“It’s going to hurt at first, but it’s going to feel really good,” Chanyeol says, pressing a kiss along Baekhyun’s neck. “Trust me.”  
  
“Daddy, Daddy, no!” Baekhyun says. His voice is raising and he feels tears forming in his eyes.  
  
He starts to cry.  
  
Chanyeol looks taken aback and stops moving his fingers for a second, as if contemplating what to do with the scenario. Baekhyun’s sobbing because the fingers are still there and it still goddamn hurts more than anything he’s ever experienced.  
  
And when the fingers start digging through again, Baekhyun wants to scream. He tries to, but his vocal chords lock up and he’s just silently opening his mouth with Chanyeol grinding teeth on vulnerable skin.  
  
_He can do this_ , he says as Chanyeol’s mouth keeps him distracted. _He can do this._ A tongue swipes at the skin. _Tons of people get fisted._ Hot breath adds to the blushing redness. _It must be enjoyable, or else it wouldn’t be a kink._ Teeth nip lightly. _He can do this. He can do this._  
  
Chanyeol moves his hand a little more.  
  
_He can’t do this._  
  
Baekhyun sobs into the pillow, tears flowing freely. He tries to grip onto something to grab Chanyeol’s attention. Hair. Sheets. Clothes. Nothing works because the tie binds his hands and he can’t loosen it on his own.  
  
“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Relax. It’ll hurt more if you don’t.”  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head from side to side, disagreeing completely with everything Chanyeol is saying. He can’t relax. There’s no fucking way when there’s a giant fist sinking inside of him. His body is going to break. Chanyeol’s trying to comfort him, but it’s not working. Nothing’s working.  
  
Chanyeol moves his head from Baekhyun’s neck and looks down at his distressed boyfriend, eyes wide and clear with shock. Baekhyun’s face is burning hot, sweat beads rolling down the side of his face. His eyes squeeze shut, face frowning as the pain overtakes his body. Baekhyun knows Chanyeol can see how much this is hurting him, how fucking torturous every move past his muscle’s resistance is.  
  
Yet, his boyfriend does nothing but coo at him in hushed whispers and move his hand at an agonizing slow pace.  
  
“TAKE IT OUT,” Baekhyun finally screams, loud enough for all the neighbors to hear. His eyes are still closed; he doesn’t want to look at Chanyeol. He doesn’t want to recognize that his sweet boyfriend, who’s been nothing but caring and compassionate, is somehow sadistic enough to push him so far past his limits.  
  
He screams again and again until his voice breaks, each following word now spoken in a softer tone as his throat feels stripped raw and everything just hurts. “Please, Yeol, stop, it hurts so much.”  
  
His head thrashes and his body arches and falls as he pounds his bonded fists against Chanyeol’s chest. He tries to swing his legs away and change their position, but the attempt is futile because Chanyeol’s got his legs locked in a hold.  
  
Chanyeol’s hands are so big. Whenever they hold hands, Baekhyun always feels like a little kid, small fist completely enveloped in the latter’s hold. If Chanyeol pushes his fist in, Baekhyun’s gone. There’s no way he could survive. He’s going to die.  
  
He needs Chanyeol to stop right now. Snot starts to run down Baekhyun’s nose and he looks so indecent and unattractive and God, Chanyeol doesn’t fucking _stop_.  
  
And then Baekhyun remembers.  
  
They have a safeword.  
  
Baekhyun feels a shudder rush through his body, because he’s never had to use the safeword before. For the last two months he’s always been okay with what Chanyeol gave him. He could take it. And he reconsiders using it for about three more seconds before Chanyeol’s about to ease the last group of knuckles into his wrecked body.  
  
He opens his mouth.  
  
But then he doesn’t remember.  
  
He can’t remember it.  
  
Baekhyun bites his lip and jerks even harder, this time partly due to self-frustration. It’s his only ticket out and he can’t fucking remember. His brain is racking and he wants to pull his hair out in stress but his fucking hands can’t move.  
  
“Yeol, I can’t remember it,” He pleads. “Please stop, I can’t remember the safeword.”  
  
Chanyeol immediately stops. Like a machine unplugged.  
  
Then Baekhyun remembers. He remembers it and more tears slide down his porcelain cheekbones, dripping down his body. Chanyeol already stopped but he keeps repeating it until it’s the only word his mouth can form. It’s a mantra and he’s so focused on the word swimming through his head that he doesn’t notice Chanyeol growing paler and looking more lifeless as the seconds tick by.  
  
“Wallpaper. Wallpaper. Wallpaper. Wallpaper.”  
  
Chanyeol slowly pulls his hand out and stares at his boyfriend. There’s snot on his nose and drool down his chin. Tears stain splotchy cheeks. With shaky hands, Chanyeol tries to undo the tie as quickly as possible but his fingers keep slipping from the lubricant. He curses quietly but the conviction is there: a series of “fucks” running from his mouth. With eyebrows knitted together, Chanyeol finally unbinds the wrists, and throws the tie far across the room as if it was a contagion.  
  
Baekhyun feels a heavy weight on top of him, feels Chanyeol wrap his arms around his tired, limp body.  
  
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Please,” Chanyeol mutters into Baekhyun’s neck. “I love you so much, I’m awful. I can’t believe this happened. Oh god.”  
  
Baekhyun can’t cry anymore. He feels tears brimming his eyes again, but they’re not enough to spill over. His body is so used up, withered.  
  
He dryly sobs in Chanyeol’s arms, and Chanyeol gathers his naked body up and kicks the soiled blankets away from the bed. Placing Baekhyun gently back down onto the mattress, Chanyeol does a dash to the laundry room. He comes back with crisp, new sheets and throws them onto Baekhyun, tucking him in before running off again.  
  
Baekhyun waits for several minutes before Chanyeol returns with a hot water bottle. He lifts Baekhyun’s upper body and places it underneath his lower back. The heat soothes Baekhyun's aching muscles, dulling the soreness. Tidying up the sheets again, Chanyeol presses an openmouthed kiss on Baekhyun’s forehead.  
  
He climbs onto the bed and holds Baekhyun, holds him like Baekhyun is the only meaning in his world.  
  
“I don’t know how I can make this up to you. Oh god.”  
  
“Just stay here,” Baekhyun says brokenly, snuggling into Chanyeol’s chest. “I know you didn’t mean it.”  
  
“I should’ve just—I knew there was something wrong. You’ve never—you’ve never freaked out like that before. But I just thought because you didn’t use the safeword. And I wasn’t sure if it was all part of the roleplay or… I just—I’m the worst boyfriend ever. I understand if you want to break up with me,” Chanyeol says softly, his heart breaking as he cards his fingers through Baekhyun’s sweat-sticked hair.  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous. I love you,” Baekhyun shushes. He feels better, warmer, safer in Chanyeol’s hold. Baekhyun is immediately reminded of their first night together a few years ago. Both their spent bodies pressed against each other, limbs entangling in hair and wrapping around slick torsos. He remembers Chanyeol kissing him still even after it was all over. Chanyeol, who cares for him so much, who would go to the ends of the earth to please Baekhyun.  
  
Baekhyun buries his head in Chanyeol’s chest, fingers clutching at his boyfriend’s shirt. He wants to be closer, impossibly close. But Chanyeol lifts Baekhyun’s chin up so they’re staring right at each other.  
  
Chanyeol looks down at Baekhyun like he’s an angel, like his presence is a gift to humanity. Baekhyun flushes under the gaze, and eternal warmth courses through his body. He bites his bottom lip nervously before Chanyeol presses a kiss on his mouth.  
  
“I love you so much,” Chanyeol says almost dejectedly. “I can’t believe I made you cry. It won’t happen again, I promise.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Baekhyun says, tracing Chanyeol’s chest with his finger. “I’m just tired, Yeol, I’m really tired.”  
  
Chanyeol nods and Baekhyun’s just so exhausted. He falls asleep with Chanyeol’s arms wrapped around him and head buried in his hair, pressing small kisses along his scalp.


End file.
